Nothing Left To Lose
by cityofbones1234
Summary: Saphronia Williams has always been different. Orphaned at five in a freak amusement park accident, she's been in an orphanage in Banff, Canada for 9 years. Picked on in school for her name and looks, she's used to being an outcast. But when a new type of foster home takes over her life, she discovers that she's more than what she thought she was. T for language. After TMI.
1. The Preview

**This is a preview chapter.**

**First: this story is written in first person, mostly. A little unusual for fanfiction, but it's a made up character, so I can do whatever I want. **

**Second: Most of the characters in TMI are dead by the time this story rolls around. The ones that appear are the immortal ones. Prepare for feels.**

**Third: I'm super excited about this story. It's, like, one of my fantasies. Except I'm not an orphan. Nor am I Greek.**

**Fourth: This is my second story. The other one is not as good as this one will be. Look forward to some long chapters, but unfortunately, they take longer to write. Sorry. You can't have everything.**

**Okay. Okay? Okay. Preview time.**

"Are you sure about this, Lena?" Papa says worriedly to Mama, holding me balanced on his hip.

She flashes him a smile. "Come on, Will. It's a fun ride. We're here to have fun, remember?"

"Are we gonna go, Mama?" says Alix, tugging on her hand. He's seven now, with bright dark eyes and curly black hair, like Mama's.

"Yes, Alix, we're just going to get in line now." She looks meaningfully at Papa.

"Papa," I say, leaning in closer to his ear. "I have to go."

"Come on, William. We're going to miss this ride," calls Mama, already a few feet from the entrance of the short line.

"Saffy has to go," he calls back. I hide my face in his sleeve, embarrassed.

"Will, I can hold her. You go ahead." Aunt Alexandra holds out her arms. Gratefully, Papa shifts me into her grip and hurries to catch up with Mama.

"Be back soon, Saffy," he says, before taking Alix's hand and disappearing behind the gates of the roller coaster.

Alexandra takes me into the ladies' bathroom, and I'm just standing on my tiptoes to wash my hands when we hear a commotion outside.

People stop what they're doing to look around. I tug on Alexandra's thin hand. "What happened, Auntie?"

"Shhh, Saffy, let's go outside and look." She lifts me up, moving through the masses of people out of the bathroom.

There's a fire up in the high towers of the roller coaster, with thick black smoke billowing out in every direction. It's hard to see what's going on, but it's clear at once that something's wrong, even to five-year-old me.

"Oh my God," says Alexandra, covering her mouth with one hand. Her face is too pale. "Oh my God." Tears start to fill her eyes as her face crumples.

An ambulance is coming through the yellow paved streets of the amusement park, blaring every light and horn available. Fire trucks follow soon after, but there's not much for them to do. The fire soon goes out, revealing the burnt out chassis of the coaster car, stuck in a valley, between two mountain-high hills.

I start to cry because Auntie's crying. I don't understand what's going on at all. People all around us are crowding around, trying to get a better look. A few look concernedly at us, leaning against the bathroom wall and sobbing, but I don't notice.

After a few minutes, Auntie pulls herself together. She pulls me away, toward a bench a few rides away. She picks me up and sets me on the hard wooden seat, kneeling in front of me. "Shhh, shhh," she says, stroking my hair. "Everything will be all right." She tries in vain to wipe the tears off of my face.

But by then I understand, and I only cry harder. I know, with the most certainty that I've ever had, that they're gone.


	2. The Update

This is purely an update.

There is a character that will shortly be introduced. Her name is Lib Carstairs (oh, the feels). She has a gmail. If you want to email her or talk with her, she will respond in between tutoring and training sessions. The email is libcarstairs13 . Please email her any questions, comments, etc. that you may have!


	3. Chapter I - The Beginning

**A/N Sorry it took me soooooo long to update. I was in Canada. This is literally the first block of time I've had since I wrote the preview. So, one of the characters is me, if I'd been born a Shadowhunter. It's not actually me. If you know me in person, please don't think I'm incredibly vain. This is not me. It's the Shadowhunter version of me. Okay? Okay. So there was another version of this, but it was bad, and it was long, and drawn out, and boring. So I decided to start here and just fill in the backstory. So without further ado - **

**Magnus: Get on with it, girl. We're dying over here.**

**Me: I hope not literally.**

**Magnus: *glares***

**Me: Okay, please don't turn me into a rat like you did Simon.**

**Magnus: That wasn't me, that wasn't my fault - **

**Simon: Yes it was, and you know it.**

**Me: Shut up, Simon. On with the story.**

I stare warily at the man across the desk. Spiked black hair that is liberally dusted with multicolored glitter stands out above dark skin clothed in black leather. Yellow-green eyes outlined in black inspect me as the man leans back in a swivel chair, arms crossed over his chest. There's something about those eyes, something just beneath the surface-

"Saphronia Charlotte Williams," says the woman sitting next to him, tearing my gaze away from him. Golden hair frames green eyes in a pale face dotted with freckles. She holds her chin high, demanding attention and exuding an air of authority.

"Yes, ma'am," I say.

"Do you like it here?" she says abruptly.

"Ma'am?" I ask, startled.

She sighs exasperatedly. "Quit it with the 'yes ma'am' crap. Just answer the question."

I swallow. "Yes, m- yes."

"I'm not going to eat you, girl. Are you happy here?"

"I guess so." I'm not sure exactly what she's getting at.

She just looks at me, and I know she knows I'm lying.

The man leans forward, drawing my attention again. He folds his hands on the desk. A silver ring glitters on one of his fingers. "Saphronia. Have you ever seen something that nobody else could see?"

I'm opening my mouth to say no, to say that's impossible, but then his eyes change. No longer are the pupils round like mine and the woman's. They're thin and vertical, like a cat's.

My eyes grow wider of their own accord, and my jaw drops. I snap it shut, still staring at him.

The woman hides a smile with her hand. "Magnus," she says impatiently, tapping a pencil on the desk.

"All right, Isabelle." He sits, back, lazily twisting his ring with the opposite hand.

Isabelle sits forward. "Saphronia."

"Charlotte," I interrupt her. "I go by Charlotte."

I see a flash of something in Magnus' eyes, but Isabelle just continues.

"Charlotte. Come with us. We need you to help us with something. You won't believe us, I think, but we need you. I hope that you will consider coming to live with us. But you can't undo this decision, Charlotte. Be careful."

I weigh the benefits. On one hand, I know this place, and this place knows me, this orphanage. The people know me, the building knows, me and I know my place here. I only have to be here for four more years, until I'm eighteen.

On the other hand, I don't really like it here. I know this place, but I don't like it. Who likes living in an orphanage? And these people, who look much more interesting than the people here, are offering to take me with them, to take me away from here, to do something dangerous. Something that they _need_ me for.

I like the second hand much better.

"I'll come," I say, and I see relief on their faces.

"Good," says Isabelle. "We'll just talk to the director and get your paperwork, then, Charlotte."

I can't believe it. I'm leaving this place, the "home" where I've lived for ten years.

The director is called in, and he seems startled by someone wanting to take me. He's probably relieved, to be honest. They don't like me much around here. I'm too quiet.

The papers are filled out by Isabelle, and then I'm sent upstairs to pack up. The younger girls are excited for me. They haven't been here long enough. The older girls, however, aren't so congratulating. They shoot me glares that could pierce Kevlar as I stack the plain clothes the orphanage gave me in a green duffel bag, then sling it over my shoulder.

I don't know any of them well enough for them to say goodbye, except for one. Tessa Parks follows me down the stairs, trying to hold back tears. When she came here, she was just four. I was put in charge of her, keeping her out of trouble, showing her around. She got rather attached, and I must say I'm pretty fond of her myself. When we reach Isabelle and Magnus, standing by the door with the director, she bursts out crying. I bend down to hug her, this seven year old who's losing the only person who's taken care of her here.

"Shhhh," I say, patting her back and stroking her hair. "It's okay, Tessa. It's okay." Her hands tangle in my messy braid and I have to gently push her away from me. It just about breaks my heart. "Bye, Tessa."

"Wait," says Magnus. "We want her, too."

The director looks dubious, but he goes and gets Tessa's paperwork. She looks like she can't believe her eyes. "Can I really come with you, Charlotte?"

I squeeze her hand, which has slipped into mine. "It looks like that, Tessa."

A grin splits her face. "I'll go pack now. Where are we going?"

She sprints off before I can reply. Now that I think of it, I don't actually know where we're going, but it'll be better than this place, almost certainly.

She's back in a flash, a bag just like mine weighing her down. "Let me take that," Magnus says, hefting it to his own shoulder with little effort. Tessa takes advantage of this to use her now freed hand to clutch me like she'll never let go.

We go outside, and Magnus puts the bags in the back of an ancient Honda Pilot, a sort of hideous green color. We pile in the backseat, with Magnus driving and Isabelle in shotgun. I still can't believe what's happening. Tessa and I are being adopted.

We make the drive from the orphanage in Banff out into the wilderness, as much more into the wild as you can get from a small town in Canada. Tessa falls asleep after a few minutes, worn out by all the excitement. Her head rests gently on my shoulder. I stroke one hand down her smooth blond hair, coming free from its ponytail at the nape of her neck. She's really the only family I have.

We eventually take a turn down a gravelly road, up to a mountain pass. Did I mention the mountains? We're in the mountains. Definitely in the mountains.

The road takes several sharp switchbacks as gravel pings up from the road to hit the windows and doors of the car. Finally, just as I'm beginning to think they've brought us out into the wilderness to kill us, the car pulls up in front of an old abandoned church.

Except it's not abandoned. I look harder at it, like I looked at Magnus' eyes earlier, and it morphs into something else. Now it is a huge building, still a church, but undeniably not abandoned. Now I can see the girl standing in front of it, wearing a black leather jacket, black jeans, and hiking boots. Her hair is cut into a messy pixie, like she doesn't care what it looks like. I can't help itching to push it out of her face. There are black marks, like tattoos, on her hands and neck.

Now that I know what to look for, I look at Isabelle. The same marks cover her skin, wild and unearthly. What have I gotten myself into?

Tessa's awake now, and we follow Magnus and Isabelle into the church.

The girl's there, holding the door, and I see her glance at me as I enter. For some reason, I feel like she can see through my very soul. I look away, pulling Tessa with me.

Isabelle makes the introductions. "Charlotte, this is Lib. You're about the same age. Lib, this is Charlotte, and this is Tessa."

Tessa seems scared by Lib, this girl with the piercing gaze. But Lib gets down on one knee, smiling gently. "Hi, Tessa," she says in a gentle voice. Tessa smiles tentatively.

"Lib, can you show them around?" asks Isabelle. She seems to be the one in charge here. "I have to talk to Magnus."

"Sure," Lib says, turning to the stairs. Tessa follows without question, but I hang back.

There's somehting that Lib is hiding. I saw it in her face, when she saw Tessa. But I put the thought out of my mind. If she wants to tell us, she'll tell us later.

Upstairs, there is a maze of hallways and doors. Lib shows us the door to her room, but it's closed. She lets Tessa pick out a room, a nice one with a view of the mountain to the east. There'll be a nice sunset. I choose one randomly, not used to such luxuries. Each room has its own private bathroom with a bathtub and a shower, and each has a large bed and a closet stocked with black clothing.

Finally, we get to the library. Lib's face changes, becoming younger than it was. She puts out a hand and strokes the spines of a shelf of books. It's obvious that she loves to read. Tearing herself away from them, she pulls out two copies of a large tome.

"This is the Shadowhunter Codex. Don't ask me," she warns, seeing Tessa open her mouth, "what a shadowhunter is. Just read it. Okay?"

Tessa nods. Lib hands one to me and one to her. "Go put these in your rooms and change for dinner. You don't have to be too nice, but as you'll soon know, Shadowhunters often wear black."

I look at my uniform, and at Tessa's. They consist of worn grey slacks and shirts, white socks, flats and a brown sweater. Let's face it – they're hideous.

We find our ways back to our rooms, and close the doors.

My bed seems to be big enough for three people, with soft pillows and a black comforter. The floor is a light hardwood, smooth and sanded. I have two windows, one to the east, one to the south. The walls are plain white.

Setting the Codex on a bookshelf, I unzip my old duffel bag. The only things in it are more uniforms from the orphanage. I zip it back up, tucking it in the bottom of my closet.

I open the top drawer of the dresser. Shirts, pants, and jackets made of a tough, black leatherlike material are stacked neatly. Not what I need, because they look like they're made for fighting. The next drawer reveals undergarments, from boxers to silk panties to sports bras to lacy things with straps. I shut that one and open the next one down, to find black shirts and shorts. Jeans and sweatpants are in the last drawer.

I choose one of the more sensible cotton bras and a lightweight black shirt, then pull on some jeans. It's the most revealing outfit I've ever worn. To cover, I choose a plain black hoodie.

Turning to the full-length mirror, I stare. My hair's a mess, so I rebraid it. This girl doesn't look like me. Her legs look longer. Her eyes look greener. Her face looks paler than mine. She can't possibly be me.

Somehow reassured by this, I open the door, turning off the light in my room. I head down the hallway to dinner, hoping that something, anything, will be explained.

Tessa's waiting for me outside her room. "Ready?" I say, reaching for her hand and gripping it reassuringly. She looks scared.

"Ready."

**A/N If you know me personally, you definitely know who the character is. Yeps. And be prepared for some surprises . . . except for madmad01. You know this surprise already.**

**Please, please be patient with me. I'm just starting high school, and the homework is crazy (well, kind of) and cross country is self-inflicted torture. Please don't kill me if there's a long wait until the next chapter.**


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